Strategic Marketing & Communications for Nonprofits and Grantmakers

Optical Hopscotch

No storyline, regardless how frivolous, remains buried during Super Bowl buildup. From the heartfelt to the heartless to everything in between, the NFL’s signature hype machine must be fueled. So it seems odd to suggest there’s one story that can’t possibly receive enough attention: The sport of American football kills its participants. This is now understood and accepted science.

In a recent essay for the New York Review of Books, well-regarded journalist and editor David Maraniss wrestles with his love for American football, specifically the Green Bay Packers, and the essential truth that football draws its appeal from being a game of human collision:

But my attachment to football has been loosened by an increasing sense of guilt about whether I am complicit in supporting an unacceptably debilitating and duplicitous enterprise. America’s superpower game has never been more popular, yet evidence against it is amassing on many fronts, none more troubling than what science now says about the long-term ramifications of those collisions.

This week The New York Times questioned whether it is a moral obligation to not watch men pummel each other on a football field. “How can fans enjoy watching a game that helps ruin players’ lives?” it asked.

I played football in high school or, rather, I spent a lot of time on the practice field. I wasn’t much good enough to play in games. Our head coach, for whom we players were mostly steps on the ladder to his next, better job, once yanked me off the kickoff team late in a lopsided game because I was a liability in his quest to preserve a shutout. My high school girlfriend mentioned to me in passing after a game once that she thought she had heard my name called over the loudspeaker. Once. My football talent was not, as they say, one of my team’s “keys to victory.”

On the practice field, however, I was immensely useful. As per custom back then, and perhaps still, those consigned to second or third string on game days were the “scout team” during practice, running the preferred offense of the following week’s opponent against the starting defense.

I was often slotted at running back for our scout team, and our inside linebackers took great pleasure in seeing how far they could launch me behind the scrimmage line. [Barbarism perhaps being the most valued trait of an inside linebacker.] I sustained many hits, many of them vicious and directly to my head, but if I couldn’t prove my worth during games I would take my opportunities in practice.

Chronic traumatic encephalopathy (CTE), the form of brain damage scientists attribute to sustained blows to the head — not just in American football but other sports as well — cannot be tested for in the living; it can only be discovered once the brains of the dead are offered by family members to science.

As a native of San Diego, I grew up supporting the Chargers. The best defensive player in the franchise’s history, linebacker Junior Seau, blew a hole in his chest with a shotgun in 2012 after having suffered years of mental illness. Researchers discovered CTE had ravaged his brain.

Having had some challenges with mental illness, I think about the hits more and more, particularly as new evidence shows younger brains are more susceptible to concussion. I can imagine the anxiety that must be felt among those players who made a career out of football, wondering about the source of that dropped memory or brief depressive episode.

Mark Leibovich writes in today’s Times Magazine about how the NFL keeps the cash rolling in even while the evidence piles up that the very nature of football causes damage to the brains of those who play it. The owners, he points out, are a greedy bunch of mostly unlikable billionaires who pay NFL Commissioner Roger Goodell hefty sums to deflect attention away from them and the savagery that lines their pockets.

The entire enterprise and its deafness of tone is encapsulated in the notion of the “Shield,” the NFL’s toddler-ish usurpation of law enforcement imagery intended to remind the industry to protect its brand. Former Denver Bronco Nate Jackson says it best:

“To me, the Shield was my loss of identity within the system,” Jackson said. “It was the suggestion that it was not about me. I was prepared to die to make a play. But the reason that football is so dangerous is that the men making the decisions are not the ones getting hit.”

Saturday marks the beginning of the 2015-2016 season of the Barclays Premier League, the top division in English football [technically British, with one Welsh side, Swansea, in the league]. US rights to live coverage of the league’s matches were acquired by NBC in 2012, and the network has seen huge growth in viewership of its broadcasts from year to year.

Which means in the coming months you’re increasingly likely to overhear conversations in the elevator or lunch line such as:

“Dodgy penalty for Rooney Saturday against Spurs; what a flopper.”

“No chance. It was a clear trip in the box. Well deserved.”

Or:

“What the hell is Stoke doing in a 5-3-2? What a bore.”

“They’ve been defensive minded for years! Thugs.”

Which is why if you want to stay relevant in the culture you’d better start boning up on your footie. A good place to start is to select a team to support. There are a number of ways to go about such a momentous decision.

The old American standby: Pick a demonstrated league champion. Your chances are better than you might imagine. Since 1992, when the top league was rebranded from the typically British and bland League One, only five teams have won the Prem, and one of those teams [Blackburn Rovers] is now plying their trade in England’s second division [called The Championship — go figure]. So, if you want a safe choice go with either of the Manchesters, City or United, or the London-based powerhouses Chelsea or Arsenal.

Celebrity supporters: LeBron James owns a little piece of Liverpool Football Club [which happens to be my team]. So if you’re a big LeBron fan that might be for you. It was reported recently that Snoop Dogg is a Norwich City fan, so that factoid might be worth your consideration. Paul McCartney supports Everton, Liverpool’s intra-city rival, while AC/DC lead singer Brian Johnson is a Newcastle United man. The President of the free world, it’s worth noting, is a West Ham United fan, otherwise known as a “Hammer.” Here’s a handy reference guide should you prefer this method.

American associations: It’s quite possible one of your beloved American sports teams has some loose [or close] ties to a Prem team. The Glazer family owns Manchester United as well as the Tampa Bay American football franchise, so if you’re a hapless Buccaneers fan you might counter that with the happiness of some Manchester United success. John Henry owns both the Boston Red Sox and my Liverpool team, natural cousins given both cities’ Irish roots. You might also consider Everton or Aston Villa because of their American goalkeepers [Tim Howard and Brad Guzan, respectively], or Tottenham Hotspur for their employment of Deandre Yedlin, an up-and-coming American defenseman.

The underdog: While it may seem tedious to follow a league that has been won by only five teams in its 24 years of existence, there are many reasons to follow other teams. You see, professional sports in England and throughout Europe are rooted in … capitalism! Relegation is the great motivator, known by its more dreaded moniker, “the drop.” In the Prem, if your team can’t manage to finish in the top 17 out of 20, they will be shipped off to the next division below. If this happens you and your fellow supporters will cry, you will be cursing your owner for being cheap, and you will be blaming your manager and five or six of your players for thoroughly disrespecting the loyalty of you and your fellow supporters. But that’s what makes the whole damn enterprise worth watching. As a fan of the San Diego Padres baseball team, what do I have to look forward to every year? A fourth or fifth place finish in the division. Ho-hum. But if 5th place meant being relegated to Triple AAA, I’d be more likely to pay attention until the end of the season with desperate hope for my team to finish … 4th. So, if you’re up for that sort of emotional rollercoaster you might consider supporting one of this year’s promoted teams. There must be replacements for those teams that suffer the drop, so the top teams from lower leagues move up a division. Promoted teams are, however, generally seen as favorites to go right back down the following year. [Capitalism!] So you might consider jumping on the bandwagon of Bournemouth, Norwich City, or West Bromwich Albion. West Brom, by the way, are known as a classic “yo-yo” team for their propensity to go up, then down, then back up, presumably lining the pockets of psychiatrists scattered throughout the town of West Bromwich, England.

Europe: While the big prize each year is the league championship, there are additional trophies to be awarded. Not insignificant is finishing in the top four of the Prem, which earns one’s team a spot in what is affectionately referred to as “Europe.” While each European country has its own domestic league, UEFA, the less-corrupt, European son of FIFA, runs a super-league consisting of all the top clubs throughout Europe, the Champions League. The extra cash earned from the additional matches allows teams to buy more and better players and is in part why the top teams tend to stay near the top from year to year. The Champions League also has a poor cousin, the Europa League, for second tier teams from across the continent. This year’s candidates for pipping the Manchester and London giants for a top four spot or landing a spot in Europe include Swansea, Stoke City, Tottenham Hotspur, Crystal Palace, Southampton, Everton and my beloved Liverpool FC. If you happen to land on Tottenham [known as Spurs], you will witness the subtle of magic of one Harry Kane, a home-grown striker who will be shouldering the misplaced hopes of a nation in international competitions in the coming years.

The cup run: What dreams are made of. The English FA Cup competition is the oldest football competition in the world, having first been staged in 1871-72. The brilliance of the FA Cup can be found in its format. Teams at all levels that maintain their membership in the English Football Association are eligible. You could have a “minnow,” say an amateur team sponsored by a plumbers union in a small village, play one of the top teams in the league if the amateurs manage to progress far enough in the competition. Half the battle is an exercise in avoidance. You’d prefer your favorite Premier League team not be the laughingstock splashed across the front pages of the dailies, such as what happened to Arsenal in 1992 when they lost to lowly Wrexham. The great thing about the cup is everyone’s got a chance. That could be your team’s downfall as well. There is also the League Cup, a similar tournament limited to teams in England’s four professional leagues. The top clubs tend not to take the League Cup too seriously, presenting opportunities for teams further down the table.

Finally, a disclaimer. There are a lot more people who know a lot more stuff about English football than I do, including a 13-year-old who happens to live in my house. Take it all with a grain of salt. Nevertheless, pick a team. Learn the language. Impress your friends.

Haven’t followed the “Vote Yes” campaign in favor of the marriage equality referendum which will be up for vote in Ireland on May 22? You should be:

This is just one of many shorts that have been produced as part of the campaign. It’s a lesson in how to do advocacy without confrontation but with dignity and humility. And, of course, it captures that unique Irish spirit. You can follow the campaign on its Website and Facebook page. It never hurts to have the great band Snow Patrol on your side

Mark Leibovich’s piece in the Sunday Times is a nice review of the “gotcha” defense so often employed during political campaigns. With so many self-controlled outlets through which to get their messages out, candidates rely less on the mainstream media and, when they do, simply claim victimhood when performing poorly.

Objectively, a “good” gotcha question can test a candidate’s ability to improvise or to draw on an existing body of knowledge rather than just reciting a rote response.

Indeed. It’s painful to watch candidates who have “stay on message” tattooed onto their foreheads serve up essentially the same answer to every question. Leibovich laments the fact that the gotcha defense has become the defacto position for campaigners who tongue-twist their answers to media questions.

The defining characteristic of today’s “gotcha” environment is how promiscuous candidates have become about using the phrase. It has become not so much an accusation as a mantra, the go ­to way to declare an entire, open ended line of questioning to be beyond the human realm. You can imagine how the dynamic of the 1990s would have been different if Bill Clinton could have simply avoided the press corps that he expended so much aggrievement on.

The most recent example — GOP candidate Scott Walker claiming “gotcha” after he flubbed the answer to the question of whether or not he thought the President was a Christian — is a shiny example of the genre. In the grand scheme, whether or not Scott Walker believes the President is a Christian is meaningless. But with Walker prancing about money-grabbing from right-wing Christian preachers who persistently claim the President is a secret Muslim, it’s perhaps not a bad idea to find out if he agrees with them. That he had to waffle on the question is most certainly a sign of the political times.